Chapter 19 #2
Teddy nods. ‘Right. I guess that’s a good place to start. Ideally we would do this somewhere that has a lot of DNA from strangers. That way, if we leave any traces, there will be too much of it around to locate us.’ She looks blank. ‘What else?’
‘Disposing of the body?’ Audrey offers, and Paula thinks how odd it is to be able to see her neck, though it’s a very nice neck. And what an odd word neck is.
‘Ideally we would get rid of it.’ Teddy looks thoughtful, then smiles dryly. ‘I know better than most people that no body means no investigation. Did you know around six hundred thousand people go missing in the US every year?’
Audrey snorts. ‘I should’ve shipped Harold’s body off to the States. That would’ve stumped Columbo!’
Paula’s stomach flips. ‘I should think a lot of people get caught because the police are already familiar with them. So maybe Audrey should stay away from this completely? With a police officer watching her every move? I know I said it before but maybe none of us should be—’
Teddy interrupts, fixing Ivy with a determined stare and ignoring Paula’s fearful babbling. ‘The best way to avoid a murder investigation would be to make it look like it wasn’t a murder.’ She leans closer. ‘Is this Dominic guy a drug user? He could overdose or something.’
Ivy shakes her head. ‘I don’t think so. Gemma says he drinks a lot, but I don’t think he does anything harder than that. I don’t know for sure though.’
‘That’s where the surveillance comes in.’ Teddy nods.
‘I could ask her?’ Ivy offers and Teddy shakes her head.
‘No, don’t ask Gemma anything else about him for now. We don’t want to raise any suspicions.’
‘You know . . .’ Audrey looks excited. ‘I once read that the best getaway vehicle to escape a crime is a bike! I’ve got a lovely bike!’
Paula opens her mouth again to object – especially about the cycling part, murder is bad enough, for goodness’ sake – but is interrupted by a loud buzzing. They all jump, then Teddy laughs.
‘It’s my front door,’ she says, standing up.
‘Don’t answer it!’ Paula says, her voice full of terror.
‘Why?’ Teddy looks puzzled.
‘What if it’s him – Dominic Shipman? Or Columbo? Or maybe the entirety of the police force? Maybe they heard us? Seb always says our phones are listening to us and I have been getting an awful lot of targeted ads about visiting the Austrian Alps ever since John’s car crash.’
Audrey cackles that throaty cackle, throwing an easy arm around Paula. ‘God, it’s times like this I wish everyone still smoked. That would soon relax you, my darling.’
Teddy pats her on the shoulder gently. ‘It’s not the police, babe. Chill out.’ She throws her sunglasses onto the table with abandon and disappears back inside the apartment.
Ivy leans closer, resting a hand lightly on Paula’s arm. ‘Are you OK?’ she says in a low voice.
Paula nods slowly. ‘Just a little bit on edge, I suppose.’
Ivy cocks her head. ‘Have you been getting any more strange messages? Y’know, like that one at the car showroom, asking for money?’
She hesitates, wondering how much to share.
Yes, there have been more odd texts from unknown numbers.
But what about the rest of it? Should she tell Ivy about the men – the loan sharks who haunt her thoughts?
How she lies awake at night wondering if they’re about to turn up at her door?
How she’s been stashing cash every day, feeling increasingly helpless and frightened as it amounts to nowhere near fifty thousand pounds?
Should she tell Ivy about the phone calls from breathy no ones who hang up after a few seconds? And those texts, all asking for money.
Apart from the last one. That last one . . . was different.
If she were braver, she’d message back telling them off. Maybe she’d even call the number to tell them to stop. If she didn’t have a bunch of murderer friends and loan sharks on her tail, she might’ve even considered calling the police to report it.
At last she nods gloomily and Ivy looks stricken.
‘That’s horrible,’ she says with sympathy, her eyes wide.
There is something in her expression, and Paula regards her quizzically.
After a moment, Ivy leans closer, placing a smooth little hand on Paula’s gnarled old fingers.
Did she ever have young hands like Ivy’s?
‘Um, Paula, have you been online much at all? I wondered if you’ve seen—’
A sound behind them stops Ivy mid-sentence. It’s Teddy. She’s reappeared with—
‘Oh my goodness, Tilly ?’ Paula leaps out of her seat.
‘And Seb ? What on earth are you two doing here?’ Paula is flabbergasted to see her children standing before her in this Knightsbridge penthouse apartment.
Do they know what they were just talking about?
Do they know about the debt? Do they know about . . . But how could they?
Seb gives her a grin. ‘Surprise, Mum.’
‘What is . . . What are you . . . I don’t understand. How did you find me?’ Paula asks in a strangled voice.
Tilly eyes are wide, taking in the huge expanse of greenery around her on the roof terrace.
‘I used Find My Phone,’ she answers in an awed voice.
‘It was already set up on your computer at home.’ She pauses, looking now at the stunning views and at the infinity pool.
‘What is this place?’ She regards her mother in stunned silence.
‘You haven’t bought something else huge without telling me? ’
Behind them, Teddy snorts. ‘Babe, your mom couldn’t afford this.’
Paula stands back, waving towards the gathered group of women. ‘Um, Tilly, Seb, this is Teddy. This is her home. And that’s Audrey and Ivy.’
Teddy nods, Ivy waves shyly, and – predictably – Audrey dives in for a group hug.
‘It’s so lovely to meet you, my darlings!’ she says, smooshing them into her bosoms. ‘I’ve heard so much about you, Tilly and Seb.’
Paula is aware this isn’t true and she feels ashamed. She should’ve talked about her children more but something inside her wanted to keep these two worlds separate. She wanted to protect her friends and her children from each other. But look how well she’s managed that. They’re here .
‘Er . . .’ Tilly’s alarm is plain on her face, as she tries to extricate herself from the Audrey hug as politely as possible. ‘Nice to meet you, Audrey, was it?’ Audrey nods happily, releasing them both at last. Tilly’s brow is furrowed deep as she makes eye contact with her mother.
‘Mum, what is all this? Are you OK?’ She leans closer, speaking in a stage whisper. ‘Have these women . . . kidnapped you? Do we need to get you out of here?’
‘No!’ Paula answers in a strangled tone. ‘They haven’t kidnapped me! They’re my . . . friends.’
Tilly stares at her for a moment, taking this in. Then she turns to the group. ‘And . . . um, how do you all know my mum?’
Paula regards the others fearfully, as Audrey speaks up.
‘Your mum knew my husband,’ she lies smoothly.
‘She was his carer before he died a few months ago. And I got back in touch when your dad passed away.’ She reaches for Seb’s hand, squeezing it and looking with sympathy to Tilly.
‘I’m so sorry for your loss.’ The moment passes and she waves towards Teddy and Ivy.
‘Then I introduced her to my pals here.’
Tilly still looks baffled taking in the three women – their ages spanning more than half a century – but Paula notes her shoulders relaxing a little. She’s bought the story. Audrey is a very accomplished liar, Paula thinks, only slightly worried by the revelation.
‘Would you like something to drink?’ Teddy asks, as they all move inside to congregate in the ginormous kitchen. ‘Tea? Or something stronger?’ She finds mugs from a pink cupboard that appear from seemingly nowhere.
‘Er, sure,’ Tilly says, and Seb nods eagerly. ‘Tea, please,’ says Paula’s daughter as Seb simultaneously requests a beer. They gather together at the large kitchen island and Audrey makes conversation, firing questions at Tilly and Seb, as Teddy moves about the room, playing host.
‘And you’re married to Misha, is that right?’ she throws out to Tilly, barely waiting for an answer before moving on to Seb. ‘And you live in the shed, don’t you, my darling?’
He colours, shooting an embarrassed look at Ivy, the only other person in the room close to his age, before quickly offering, ‘Well, yes, I do right now. But I’ve actually been looking at places to rent. And I had a job interview the other day!’
This is all news to Paula and she blinks in surprise at her son.
Is he finally growing up? Goodness, wouldn’t that be a revelation?
Paula always felt he was capable of so much more than playing games in a shed.
He was such a bright child, so intuitive.
But when those teenage hormones swept in, he became subdued and uncommunicative.
Fifteen years later and he hasn’t made much progress on that front. Until now, it would seem.
Tilly titters awkwardly. ‘It sounds like you know a lot more about us than we do about you . . .’ There is an edge to her tone and Paula jumps in.
‘So, Tills,’ she begins nervously, ‘what are you . . . Why is . . . Why were you looking for me?’
Her daughter takes a sip of tea. ‘I was worried. I turned up at the house to pick you up, and Seb didn’t know where you were.
Again.’ She shoots him an angry look as her brother stares down at his drink.
‘That mad, flashy car you’ve bought wasn’t in the driveway, and I keep having this dream that someone sees it outside your house and realises you’re super rich.
They decide to steal the car and kidnap you and—’ She stops suddenly, sounding a little choked up and Paula reaches for her.
‘I’m sorry, sweetheart,’ she murmurs into her daughter’s hair.
She smells like fruity shampoo. It suddenly occurs to Paula that her daughter’s fears might not be so far off the mark.
What if those loan shark men do come back and see the car?
Maybe she’d better clear the garage and park it out of sight.
Paula draws back, regarding her oldest. ‘I didn’t mean to frighten you.
But pick me up? What were you picking me up for? ’
Tilly cocks her head. ‘Our next session? We’re supposed to be at the grief counselling.’ She checks her watch. ‘Right now, actually. They’ll charge us for it.’
Paula gasps. ‘Oh my goodness, Tills, I’m so sorry! I completely forgot.’ What with all the murder chat – she doesn’t add.
Her daughter huffs in response and it’s clear her concern has turned into irritation. Paula suddenly feels a little defensive.
Of course it’s not fair or right that she missed their appointment – she feels bad about that – but does Tilly really need to be kept in the loop about everything she’s doing?
She wonders what her daughter would make of her mother and these new friends planning the murder of a man named Dominic Shipman.
The idea makes Paula want to do it after all. What would Tilly think of that?
For that matter, what would the Paula of a few months ago have thought?
After a moment, Tilly takes a deep breath, steadying herself. ‘It’s not just the flashy car, Mum,’ she says slowly, looking anxious. ‘There’s another reason I panicked . . . Um, have you seen the stuff online?’
Paula glances at Ivy, whose eyes are wide and alert. ‘No, why? What do you mean?’
Tilly swallows. ‘You haven’t checked your Facebook lately?’
Paula shakes her head again, fear creeping up the back of her neck. ‘What is . . . What’s going on?’
Her daughter shuffles closer. ‘OK, look, it’s not a huge deal and I don’t want you to panic, but someone wrote an article last week . . .’ – she pauses – ‘about you.’
‘About me?’ Paula is confused. The lottery winner widow stuff had died down, hadn’t it? Why would anyone still care?
Tilly looks around at the group of people she doesn’t know, all listening intently. ‘Shall we talk about this in the car? Or at home?’
Paula shakes her head quickly. ‘No, it’s fine, tell me.’
She sighs, looking a bit annoyed. ‘Mum, it’s kind of a private matter.’
Seb takes a sip of his beer. ‘Stop making it into a massive drama, Tills. It’s not that big of a deal.
’ He looks directly at Paula. ‘It was just some rubbish online about how weird it was that Dad died just as you won the lottery. They thought it was suspicious and then with the way you reacted at the press conference, running off like that. They said it was like you had something to hide. They suggested . . .’ He glances away awkwardly.
‘Whatever. Anyway, the story got shared a bit and some idiots on the internet – a small handful of idiots – have been getting carried away with some stupid conspiracy theories.’
‘Conspiracy theories about . . . me?’ Paula asks, bewildered.
‘Mostly just on Facebook.’ Ivy moves closer. ‘And no one even uses Twitter anymore.’
‘X,’ Audrey corrects. ‘As in, the ex -social media website that only misogynists frequent these days.’
‘I’d better go.’ Paula turns to her friends, suddenly feeling very sick.
She has to get out of there. She needs to go home and google herself.
She has to figure out what all of this means.
She splutters a thank you to Teddy for having her, and the group exchange awkward hugs.
Paula, Seb and Tilly head out via the ornate lift, as Seb gleefully volunteers to drive Paula’s car back home.
She hands over her keys, her head spinning, and follows Tilly out onto the street, staring down at the pavement before her.
She’s suddenly feeling very exposed and frightened by the outside world.
Seb didn’t say the words back there, but Paula got the inference.
It’s no longer just Audrey, Teddy and Ivy who think she killed John. It sounds like the rest of the world thinks so, too.
And now that final text she received yesterday makes sense. The one from the unknown number who’d previously just asked for money.
I know what your friends have done.